The Asturian Throne
by Got Frostbyte
Summary: Once upon a time, Prince Folken met Princess Eries, then he vanished without a trace. Now, Lord Folken must face the love that could have been before his time runs out.


-In the Darkness-

Folken Lacour de Fanel sat on the cold, hard floor of his quarters with only the small, blue flame of a lamp to illuminate the dark, windowless room. His robes hung open, exposing his muscular torso and the bare metal arm which had come to symbolize his great shame. Ash gray wings were spread, sagging in crumpled heaps on either side of his slouching form. Folken leaned against the wall, hunched over as he examined the cold, ruthless metal of his right arm, cradling it in his good, living arm. The light gleamed on the shiny metal, outlining the claw tipped digits and emotionless form with its intricate pattern of metal and tubes. Looking into the reflection of the Stratego's metal hand, Folken did not see his own face; rather, the large, happy eyes of a young Van, symbolizing all that he gave up when he joined Ziabach. "The memories. Why do they haunt me?" He whispered, letting his head hang lower, the weight of his sorrow too great for him to tolerate. A flash of dragon's teeth passed through his mind, bringing the memory of blood and pain. Since he came to Ziabach, Folken had forgotten what it was like to feel. Folken curled his hands to his chest. "What have I become?"

It was so long ago, but not as long as Folken cared to admit. There had been a great party in Fanelia. His father had invited all the great kingdoms. Poor Folken was only fifteen then and very awkward with himself. The girls in the court flirted with him and giggled if he ever looked in their direction, but Folken was shy. He did not feel right in his skin. He felt even more uneasy at the party, when daughters of kings and nobles began to arrive. King Aston arrived with his three daughters. They greeted the king, then the queen, and finally himself with Van. "Prince Folken," The king smile with greedy ambitions. "Please, allow me the pleasure to introduce you to my darling daughter, Eries." The king gently encourage a gangly girl of fifteen years. She looked shy and awkward, but managed a small smile. Eries curtsied, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Folken."

There came a knock at the door, drawing Folken's attentions from the past. "Enter." He ordered in his usual cold tone. A soldier stepped in and stood at attention. "Lord Folken, we have arrived at Palas. The king of Asturia wishes to have an immediate audience with you." Folken grimaced. Of course the king of Asturia would want an immediate audience. He wanted to know why the Vione was there and how it benefited him. Folken, of course, was there to intercept Van and the EscaFlowne. They had allied themselves with the Knight Allen Schizar. "I shall be there within an hour. Now go." Soldier bowed and left the room quickly. Folken reached over to a blue glass of wine. His metal hand lifted it to his lips and he knocked back the red, bitter liquid. Removing the glass from his lips, Folken made a fist, shattering the glass. "I can't let her see me like this."

With in an hour, Folken Stratego walked up the grand steps of the Asturian palace with an entourage of soldiers. The orange rays of the setting sun glittered across the water of the sea port and illuminated the landscape as Folken came into the company of King Aston. The man was old, but greedy as ever. At his side stood his youngest daughter, Millerna. "Lord Folken, what a pleasure it is to see you." Aston greeted him. Folken bowed, "The pleasure is all mine, your highness. Good afternoon, princess." Millerna gave a rigid smile, but remained silent. "Millerna, leave us." The king ordered and the princess left quickly, happy to be dismissed. Once she was gone, Aston looked to Folken. "Now down to business, Lord Folken." Folken watched the king with an emotionless expression.

Folken found himself drifting back into the past. That night, Aston made many attempts to get Folken and Eries alone together. To marry off his second eldest daughter to another kingdom meant an alliance to Asturia. Unfortunately for him, every other king with daughters were also trying to sell them off to the young princes. Eries, however, tried her best to hide away from her father and the crowded party. Folken did his best to hide as well. That was how they met. "Why are you hiding?" Folken asked. Eries put her finger to her lips. "Quiet! You're drawing attention to us." Folken was surprised the princess was giving him orders, however, he got an idea. Grabbing her hand, he said. "Come on, I know the prefect place."

Folken brought himself back from the daydream. It was simple, really: Aston was nervous about the growing power of Ziabach and wanted to make sure their alliance was strongly bound. "I have decided. I will offer you, Lord Folken, my daughter's hand in marriage to fortify our alliance with Ziabach." Folken's eye grew wide for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. Eries or Millerna? "Ah…that is very generous of you, your highness. However, respectfully, I would have to speak with my emperor before giving you an answer. And I fear the wedding would have to be very soon, for I have a very important job in the Empire and cannot be away for very long." This was an odd card for Aston to play, Folken thought. Ever since his late wife passed away, the king seemed to see his daughters as bargaining chips, pawns for his game. Aston gave a nod of his head. "Very well, my offer stands for one week. Now, Lord Folken, you must join us for dinner." Folken bowed. "I would be honored, King Aston."

Dinner, in Asturian culture, was not for another hour. Folken decided to explore the famous gardens of the palace. He withdrew a hand held device from his robes and flipped a small switch. The machine crackled to life. "Emperor Dornkirk?" Folken spoke softly into the communication device. "Yes, Lord Folken?" The old man's haggard voice crackled from the machine. "Emperor Dornkirk, King Aston has made an odd move..." Folken repeated the conversation with the king. Dornkirk always wanted to be informed, keeping ahead of the game. Once Folken had finished, he place the device back into his robe. "You must accept." Were Dornkirk's words. When he turned to meet the king in the dinning hall, Folken found a tall young woman standing in the entranceway. "Lord Folken," She spoke softly. "I am Princess Eries. My father asked me to escort you to the dinning hall." Folken found himself unable to move or speak. For a moment, a fraction of a moment, Folken felt something, the fluttering feeling inside of his chest. Was that hope?

"Thank you, princess, I am honored." Folken managed a weak, diplomatic smile. Did she know what her father had planned for her? He drew back his cape, extending his good arm to the princess. Her eyes looked so sad. 'Dear princess, the middle daughter who did everything to please her father, but was never appreciated.' He thought. Her emotions were bottled up somewhere deep inside, suppressed. Emotions had no place in the Royal Court. She meekly looped her arm with his. 'So, this is Lord Folken.' Eries thought sadly. This was the man her father wanted her to marry. Did she know him from somewhere? Eries knew this day would come eventually. "Did you have a good journey?" She offered small talk, trying to ease the tension she felt in both herself and the Stratego. "Of course, princess." Folken replied. The pair made their way to the dinning hall in silence the rest of the way. Neither seemed able to find the right words to say.

Folken once more slipped into the memories that did not belong to the Stratego, but to a prince who should have become king. "Follow me." Folken whispered to the princess. The two crept silently out of the ballroom. For a split second, Folken's gaze met his mother's. She smiled, encouraging him to go. Folken led Princess Eries into the gardens. There, they sat on a stone bench and watched the stars. In the background, a small fountain gurgled and the animals of the night stirred. Prince and princess talked for most of that night. Folken found himself at ease beside the princess. She was just like him, out of place, awkward, and unsure of herself. He felt a connection to her, he could relate to her.

Folken sat beside the king at the dinner table. "King Aston," He whispered to the king. "I accept your proposal." Aston's face lit up with joy. He clanked a utensil nosily against a plate, calling everyone's attention to him. King Aston stood up, "I have just been informed that the Stratego Folken of Ziabach has accepted my daughter Eries' hand in marriage. May the alliance between Ziabach and Asturia prosper from their union!" Aston raised his glass and the guests followed his example. Folken found his gaze turn to the face of Princess Eries. She looked back at him, but her face was an expressionless mask. No doubt, she knew this day would come whether it was Ziabach or some other kingdom. However, Folken found himself wishing she would show some kind of expression, some kind of emotion to tell him what she was thinking…what she was feeling. Folken made a mental note to speak with her some time in the evening.

King Aston sent a servant to show Folken to his quarters. It was a lovely apartment with a balcony view of the gardens. Across from the gardens were the royal apartments. The night had settled in and the stars came out to fill a clear sky. Folken found himself in the gardens once more. The silver light of the Mystic Moon illuminated his form, reflecting off of red eyes and a sad face of man who was lost. The memories of long ago swirled about in his mind. He and Eries had fallen asleep together as they watched the night sky. Marlene had found them. "Eries." She shook her little sister awake. Eries woke, shortly followed by Folken. "Eries, it's time to go." Marlene dragged her little sister to her feet. "Good night, Prince Folken." Eries whined in protest, but that did little to stop her sister. Marlene said as she began to drag Eries towards the castle. Eries pulled her hand free of her older sister. "Wait, sister!" Eries squeaked. She ran to Folken, stopping inches from him. "I-I know we've only just met tonight, but…I think you are very nice." Folken smiled. Her eyes said something more, something she did not dare say with her sister there. "I hope to see you soon." Marlene grew impatient, she took her sister's hand once more. "Good night, Prince Folken." The older princess dragged the younger one away. Eries put her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. "Good night, sweet prince!" She called.

Eries sighed deeply as she stepped out to the balcony of her apartment. Her mind, however, reflected to the past. Eries looked down at the gardens. And it was there that she saw Folken. "Lord Folken, are those rumors true?" She felt her heart ache. As if he had heard her speak, Folken looked up to Eries' balcony. She had been so young, naive. When they met, she felt her head get light and her heart flutter like a trapped bird within her ribcage. Their eyes met, both sad and mere ghosts of their childhood selves. Since her youth, she was taught to be proper and diplomatic. Fighting the urges of a young girl to laugh and play, Eries broke all of those rules when she met Prince Folken. Dare she say, Eries fell in love with him. Since that time, her mother died followed by Marlene getting married then passing away. All these tragedies had their effect on Eries, making her cold and accepting her own mortality. It was depressing. She broke her gaze from the Stratego and went inside to her room. His sad eyes were too intense for her to bare, reflecting her own sad life. In her mind, came the voice of young prince, "Please, call me Folken."

"Eries..." Folken thought, watching her with her hair down and the princess act dropped. He felt his heart beat for the first time since he 'died' fighting the dragon. Her sad gaze told him everything: she was only an empty shell, the husk of a human being, just like him. Perhaps together they could make a complete person. Then, she turned away. Folken sighed, feeling his heart sink once more as hope faded away. Folken never realized he was still capable of emotions. He had been numb, dead inside since Dornkirk took him under his care. Why now did these emotions stir? Folken loosened his robes till he could easily slip them off his upper torso. Once his skin was exposed to the Mystic Moon, the stars, and the night sky, Folken made sure he was truly alone. By his will, Folken's gray wings exploded from his back in a brilliant shower of ash gray feathers. What a freak he was! A hideous metal arm and a pair of gray wings that foretold his immanent demise. With a mighty leap, Folken launched himself into the air. It was a short flight, though, for he only went to the balcony of his room, adjacent to his new fiancé's.

Eries had begun to walk away from the balcony, but she felt compelled to turn back. She hesitated for a moment, then she looked back over her shoulder. But what she saw was the last thing she would have expected to see. Folken sprouted a pair of ash gray wings from his back. A draconian? Eries stumbled over a small table, spilling her tea. The tea pot crash to the ground, as did Eries. With a small yelp of surprise, Eries fell to the ground with a thump. Her first reaction was to look up and see if Folken had noticed. Eries press her hand to the ground where her extended palms found the small glass shards of her broken tea pot. Eries yelped again as fresh blood tricked from her hands. Then the princess heard a soft thud. She looked up to see Folken on her balcony. From her place on the ground, he looked like a god of ancient times. His great wings were spread wide with feather falling from them like leaves in the fall while the Mystic Moon hung over his head like an eerie halo and his broad, muscular form was exposed, due to discarded robes, including a mechanical arm. A look of concern filled his face as he knelt down beside her. "Princess Eries," He gently took hold of her arm and helped her to her feet. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

The look of concern on Folken's face was so sincere that Eries felt compelled to reassure him. "I'm fine, Lord Folken." She gave a faint smile. As soon as Eries was upright, Folken pulled out a chair for her. "Is there something I can attend these with?" He asked softly, but the sympathetic tone was gone from his voice. The Stratego was back, cautious, guarded as ever. Was he afraid of feeling emotions? Was he protecting himself? Eries watched as he brought a towel from her bathing room and gingerly attended her wounds. His touch was tender, she noticed, but his face was void of any expression. When Folken noticed Eries studying him, he felt oddly self-conscious. "What is it, your highness?" He asked, wanting to know what she was thinking.

Eries gave a faint shrug. "I never expect such tenderness from a Stratego." He lowered the towel and his gaze drooped. "Princess Eries…" He said softly. But before Folken could say anymore, Eries spoke. "Please. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone." She said softly. Folken let out a soft sigh, his wings were the least of his concerns. Eries adverted her eyes. She was just avoiding the topic. "Your father and I have decided it was best that the wedding be as soon as possible…" Folken broke the silence. Eries felt her heart freeze in her chest. "Yes…of course."

Folken lowered his gaze as well. "Princess, I know this is all just an arranged marriage…You knew it would come, whether it be Ziabach or any other kingdom, but I want you…I want you to at least be a little bit…happy. If its of any consolation, I will be away often, so you will not have to be bothered with my presence. You can even stay in Asturia for the time being, once this is all over with." Folken dismissed his wings in a flurry of gray feathers, leaving only the man that was half a monster. This princess did not need him to burden her. 'Do not worry, princess, I will not bother you for much longer.' Folken thought morbidly.

Eries looked down at Folken. As their eyes met, Eries saw a glimmer of a soul flutter across his dark, emotionless eyes. He genuinely wanted her to be happy. Eries had heard many stories about this Folken Stratego. Some people said he was a cold, merciless sorcerer of Ziabach while others said he was the lost prince of Fanelia. To Eries, he looked like a man who had lost his path; his purpose in life. "Lord Folken, I have prepared for this day since I understood what the role of a princess had in store for me. I have no doubt that you are a good man and will be a good husband. I am not afraid." She lowered her eyes, fully accepting her destiny decided by her father.

Folken's gaze grew cold once more. 'She is so strong. You will be fine when I am gone, princess.' He thought. Folken stood up. "Your hands should be fine now, princess." He turned towards the balcony, preparing to leave. "Lord Folken." Eries called out to him. He turned, hanging on the sound of her voice. "Lord Folken, I am glad my father chose you to be my husband." She gave a faint smile. Folken gave Eries a deep bow. "I am honored, Princess Eries, that you have accepted me." He managed a weak smile in return. Folken's ash gray wings sprouted from his back once more as he leapt from Eries' balcony and sailed across the garden to him own balcony.

Folken and Eries were married in a secret wedding in the Asturian temple with only King Aston, Princess Millerna, and court officials present as witnesses. The sunlight streamed down from the stained glass window onto the pair as a holy man joined them as husband and wife. It was not a particularly happy occasion, with the exception of King Aston. Eries wore a royal blue dress with a high collar of lace and long sleeves. Small, white flowers crowned her head while light veil shrouded her face. Folken wore his traditional Stratego robes and cape. No one smiled, no music was played, nor tears shed. Would anyone have wandered in on the occasion, they may have thought someone died. Folken took Eries' hand in his good hand, he said the vows while looking into her sad blue eyes. 'Eries, humor me, smile.' Folken pleaded with his eyes. 'Don't you remember?' But Folken did not stay the night. He left that afternoon after the arrival of Van and the EscaFlowne.

It was many months before Folken returned to Asturia. This time with the fortune enhanced Soldiers, Naria and Eriya. Then when the surrounding nations declared war on Ziabach. Folken was given accommodations, but was not honored as the husband of the second princess. No one knew of their secret wedding, nor did Eries or Folken say anything on the matter. However, that did not stop Eries from coming to him.

On the night of his arrival, Eries joined her husband in his room. Sitting in silence on cushioned chair, Eries watched a candle flicker as the wind blew in from the opened doors of the balcony. The wind tossed about the curtains and whispered in the poignant princess's ear. She still wore a simple blue dress, but without the adornments. Her long, straight hair was drawn back by two hair clips. She looked to be on the brink of tears, but none sprang to her eyes. Folken watch her from across the room. He had discarded his cape, exposing his metallic shame. "Eries." He whispered her name. "Princess Eries." He said again, this time loud enough to get her attention. Eries looked up, startled from her thoughts. "Yes, Lord Folken?" Her voice, that title, made his blood run cold. He could not take it any more! All this time, she had lived her life in silence, a half-heart existence that caused her nothing but pain. And now she would not even recognize him for who he used to be, who he was becoming again. She had to know. "Princess Eries, please, just call me Folken." Eries eyes grew soft, this time tears did escape her eyes. "Folken." She repeated. At that moment, Folken realized she did remember. "Eries." He replied, stepping across the expanse of the bedroom to her side. He extended his hand to her and she gently placed her hand in his. Eries stood up and followed Folken as he escorted her towards the balcony. "Eries, we do not have to…" He began. Eries shook her head. "Please, L--Folken." She looked up at him with forlorn eyes. She wanted to know the truth.

Folken reached out to touch her, then hesitated. "Eries," He spoke softly. "There is something you must know about me." He touch her shoulder with his living hand. Eries looked up at him. "Eries," He paused, looking for the right words to say. "I am Folken Lacour de Fanel, the lost prince of Fanelia." Eries eyes slowly filled with questions. Folken adverted his eyes, unable to face the little girl in the woman who had spent the last ten years of her life mourning for him, the little girl who was still in love with the little boy lost somewhere deep inside of him. Slowly, tenderly, Folken brought her towards him. Slowly, suddenly feeling as awkward as he was at age fifteen, Folken embraced her. Eries buried her face in his robes as her hot tears soaked through the material. That night, Folken and Eries consummated their wedding celebrations. Slowly, reluctantly, Folken brought Eries to his bed. Illuminated by candle light, made up for the time they lost in the last ten years. Folken's black wings spread across Eries' pale skin, but at the sight of them, his heart broke. He could no bring himself to tell Eries the truth about his wings. And as she slept, Folken crept away to his makeshift laboratory. "I will rectify all that Dornkirk has done and finally atone for my sins…" He vowed to the Mystic Moon.


End file.
